Little Things
by Kgirl1
Summary: Elsa/Anna fluff. Set sometime between their parents' death and Elsa's coronation. Oneshot.


**Well, hi everyone! This was inspired by a passing glance at some fanart— this is really my first dabbling in this fandom, so I sincerely hope the premise of this fic is a new one. Anyways, it's short, sweet, sisterly fluff. Hope you like it!**

**Little Things**

Elsa's footsteps echoed through the empty halls, each quickly after the other. After a quiet dinner by herself in her room, brought by the ever-faithful Gerda, she was carrying the tray back down to the kitchens. Anyone would have told her that it wasn't her job, or befitting of a princess soon-to-be queen, but with the few staff members they had retained, Elsa felt they already worked hard enough. A large part of her taking on this task stemmed mainly from guilt— if it hadn't been for her, there would be myriad servants to clean up her dishes. She knew that nobody minded doing it, but it had become an almost comfortingly mundane part of her nightly routine. It forced her to escape the confines of her room, although she still dreaded running into anybody, and allowed her to practice keeping her powers under control. Currently, with the tray gripped tightly in her gloveless hands, there was only a tiny dusting of frost along its handles. She was making progress. She _would_ be prepared for coronation.

She dropped off the dishes and headed back in the direction of her quarters, passing through one of the sitting rooms. Elsa was startled when she saw the hem of Anna's dress hanging over the edge of one of the couches, and halted immediately, praying that her sister hadn't heard her footsteps. The green fabric, all she could see of Anna past the sofa, didn't so much as swish, and curious, Elsa took a few steps closer. She peered over the back of the couch and found her sister was sprawled across the length of it, fast asleep. Anna's mouth was slightly open in a gentle snore, and Elsa allowed a faint smile to rest on her lips, thankful that the breathing habit had developed after Anna had moved out.

Her smile faded immediately; there was nothing she was grateful for about Anna's moving out. Internally, she scolded herself for even thinking something so selfish. Elsa would have taken her snoring sister back into her room in a heartbeat, if only it were safe. She sighed, scanning the room for a distraction. It would probably be wise to leave soon, before Anna was roused…

Unable to help herself, the princess looked back down at her sister affectionately. The slight dusting of freckles along her cheekbones and nose, her cheeks, rosy and pink even in sleep, the impossibly dark lashes for the color of her hair—

Her hair. That white streak, forever staining the brilliant copper and haunting her to no end. Each time Elsa thought she might have a chance at forgetting, at forgiving herself, it would find her, stuck in her sister's hair like a clump of mud in a bed of fresh grass.

She pursed her lips, tense, as if she could press away the memory, but couldn't keep herself from staring. There were so few occasions for her to really look at her sibling; she always had to be so guarded, so restrained. Anna was such a beautiful girl, really growing into herself, and Elsa could only watch in glimpses and snatches. She was so proud of her little sister, without really even knowing her.

As if her staring could wake the redhead, Elsa flicked her eyes around the room. There was a blanket draped over one of the chairs; instinctively she went to it, to spread it over Anna. She hesitated just before touching her hands to the fabric— she had left her gloves in her room for means of practicing with the tray. The future queen set her jaw and gingerly picked up the wool, relieved when it didn't immediately freeze up under her hands. She hurried to Anna, stepping lightly, and draped the blanket over her sister before it could get icy. Elsa stepped back and surveyed her work with a warm smile; it was comforting, being able to care for her sister, even in little ways. She knew it would never make up for the years of childhood they had lost, but it made her feel the tiniest bit more relieved.

In the midst of the calm, her sister stirred, and Elsa's breath caught in her throat. Before Anna could wake up, she turned on her heel and dashed away.

Moments later, Anna woke up to the sound of scurrying footsteps, rapidly growing softer. Groggily, she lifted her head and noted the blanket in appreciation, assuming Kai or Gerda had left it. But as the sleep cleared from her eyes, she caught tiny patches of frost sparkling along the soft gray wool, and a faint, wondering smile grazed her lips. The princess pulled the blanket closer to herself, her heart already warm with delight.


End file.
